Exactly on year ago today we were standing on Culloden Moor.
Culloden is where the final battle of the Jacobite Rebellion took place. The Scots (who were brilliant at guerrilla warfare) decided to meet the English head on. The latter were armed with cannons, rifles, and many, many more men. The Scots had claymores and that's about it. And they got slaughtered.
Culloden Moor is probably the most solemn place I've ever been to. It's almost unnaturally silent there, and the very atmosphere of the place demands respect. And it deserves respect! It is basically...a mass grave. We walked around the moor, and saw the places where the Scots lines stood, where the English lines stood, and where the two met in battle.
The Scots ran over this....
Entire clans were wiped out....
This cottage has been there since before the Battle Of Culloden, and that was in 1746. The wee place withstood a cannonball. Architecture back then was something else, eh?
This plaque was by the cottage.....
Something about this made my chest hurt:
"Cold the winds on the moor blows.
Warm the enemy's fire's glow.
Like the Harvest of Culloden,
pain, and fear, and death grow."
(From the "Harvest of Culloden")